


No Good Scheme Goes Unpunished, or When Sporks Fly

by thefrogg



Category: NCIS
Genre: Claustrophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Locked In, M/M, What were they thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrogg/pseuds/thefrogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby, Ziva and McGee think Gibbs and Tony need to confess their true feelings to one another and set up a plan to force them together. Hilarity and angst ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with fluffnutter.
> 
> Previously posted to my livejournal (and fluffnutter's).
> 
> Fluffnutter is into a lot more hard-core BDSM kink than I am; this was a response to my claim that we could never actually co-author anything. I had to open my big mouth...

Abby surveyed the storage room one last time. 

No screwdrivers or hammers? Check.

No acid or other solvent? Check.

Tamper-proof security lock? Check.

Bottles of water and cheese and cracker packets? Check.

Single-malt scotch? Check.

Baby wipes? Check.

Condoms and lube? Check, check.

Time for phase 2.

***

For once, Tony was keeping his mouth shut. Standing just outside the tight circle gathered around the plasma screen, he watched as Gibbs grew ever more irritated with Ziva and McGee. 

“Jealous lover?” offered Ziva.

“Jealous ex-girlfriend,” countered McGee.

Tony shook his head. “Grasping at straws,” he thought. And not even good straws. There was absolutely nothing at the crime scene or Ducky’s initial COD report that indicated this was a crime of passion. Just the opposite. Which is why, Tony knew, Gibbs was so pissed. 

“DiNozzo!” 

Tony snapped back to the present. “Yes, boss?”

Gibbs scowled at him. “Do you have anything intelligent to add, or would you like to offer your own asinine theory that completely ignores the evidence?”

Ouch. Tony actually felt a little sorry for Ziva and McGee. But only a little.

“Think I’ll go for something original, boss.”

Gibbs’ scowled deepened. 

Right. Skip the levity.

“Crime of passion is out based on what we found at the scene and Ducky’s initial findings,” Tony began, checking Gibbs’ response. The scowl was less deep, so he kept going, detailing his theories and backing them up with what he and the others had already uncovered.

Gibbs gave a satisfied snort as Tony ended. “DiNozzo. With me.” And he headed toward the elevator, Tony on his six.

***

Tony stopped just inside the elevator, feeling the displaced air as the doors slid shut behind him. "Boss?"

Gibbs shook his head, bracing one hand against the control panel as the elevator lurched into motion. Then he hit the emergency stop, as expected. "They should know better by now," he muttered.

"That's why they have us." Tony had no other answer for the anger and disappointment lurking in Gibbs’ eyes, in his voice.

Gibbs straightened, squaring his shoulders and tipping his head back against the back wall for a moment before meeting Tony's eyes again.

"Hey, hey, you know we can't…" Tony protested feebly.

Gibbs’ hand closed on the back of his neck, warm and callused, and drew him forward until they were forehead to forehead.

"Boss?"

"Hush." Gibbs' eyes rolled shut, and after a moment, he relaxed, or at least relaxed as much as he ever did, at work.

Tony fought down the shiver at Gibbs' touch, a slow brush of his thumb against the nape of Tony's neck, and just breathed. He'd stay like this forever. Or at least until the building maintenance people called the elevator company.

Less than a minute later, Gibbs took a step back, his hand falling away from Tony's neck to restart the elevator.

"Abby's got something?"

"Said she had something on a cold case we'd be interested in."

The elevator shuddered to a halt, the doors opening on a too-bright, too-sterile hallway.

Gibbs found his hand on his sidearm not two steps from the elevator, eyes searching the corridor. He knew Tony had already drawn from the sound. The door to the lab was unexpectedly closed; he pushed it open with one hand, slowly.

Tony slipped through, scanning the outer room visually while Gibbs kept the door from slamming as it shut.

A few monitors showed colorful screensavers, with the remainder dark. The counters were clear, chemicals and tools locked away in their respective cabinets.

The lack of pounding metal was oppressive.

Tony glanced back at Gibbs, jerking his head toward the door to the inner office, and got a nod. He sidled forward and plastered himself against the wall, left hand on the door handle.

Once the door was open, it took only a moment to tell that Abby was nowhere to be found.

"Restroom?" Tony tilted his head to one side, questioning.

"No. She's packed up for the night." Gibbs holstered his sidearm, still on high alert; they'd had too many incursions, especially here in the labs, for an easy dismissal.

Tony kept his own weapon out, on Gibbs' six, as always. Something was out of place. The lab was packed up for the night, but …

“Boss. The storage room.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed, his sidearm back out as he and Tony took up positions on either side of the storage room door, which had been left ajar. It was only a crack, but Abby would never leave the rest of her lab locked up tight and leave the storage room unlocked. Gibbs began the silent three-count as Tony wrapped his fingers around the handle.

One … two …

In a whoosh, the door was wrenched open, both men aiming their weapons … at a dark, empty room.

“I thought for sure …,” Tony began as he entered the room, Gibbs right behind him. A white slip on the farthest shelf caught his eye. It bore his and Gibbs’ names. "Looks like there's a note, Boss."

Gibbs nudged past Tony, the brief contact once again sending a shiver down Tony’s spine. As he reached for the note, the storage room door slammed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well? Did you piss off Gibbs?”

Abby’s question was greeted with conspiratorial grins. She gleefully clasped her hands together. “Excellent. Now we just … wait a minute? Where’s Tony? This isn’t going to work if T...”

“Abby.”

“…ony isn’t with him. Oh, god. Oh, god. And it’s too late to ch…”

“Abby!” Ziva this time.

“…ange the plan. And they’ll never get together now. Oh man. Oh….”

“Abby!”

“What, McGee?”

“Tony’s with him.”

Abby stared blankly at her co-conspirators. “Oh.”

“I have to say,” said Ziva, “that it was not easy to play idiot.”

“It’s ‘play dumb’, Ziva.”

“Whatever, McGee. My point is, it was difficult to look bad in front of Gibbs. I am not used to … looking bad in front of a superior.”

Abby threw an arm across Ziva’s shoulders. “Ah, but if all goes according to plan, Gibbs will be too happy to care about any of that.”

“Or he’ll fire us all.”

“Timmy!” Abby gasped. “Think positive! We’re doing Tony and Gibbs a huge favor. Of course they’re going to be happy. Thrilled in fact!”

“At the very least we’ll be rid of all the sexual tension between the two of them,” Ziva added, returning to her desk. She sighed as she slumped into her chair. “The only question now is … do we wait here or at our homes?”

McGee frowned. “You are sure they’re OK in there, Abs? What if they have to … y’know.”

Abby and Ziva exchanged confused glances. “Y’know ‘what’, McGee?” Abby asked.

“Y’know,” McGee repeated with extra emphasis.

Ziva smirked and winked at Abby. “Do you perhaps mean, McGee, what if they have to … what is the American phrase? Poop and pee?”

McGee turned scarlet as Abby began to giggle. “Oh, Timmy. Of course I thought of that. I thought of everything. All bases covered, so to speak.”

“Fine,” McGee muttered, heading to his desk, back firmly facing his tormentors. “Then I’m going home before Vance walks in and asks me where they are and I have to lie to the director of NCIS about being part of conspiracy to get my boss and co-worker together.” 

“Don’t ask, don’t tell!” Abby called to McGee’s retreating back.

“Um, Abby?”

“Yes, Ziva?”

“How are Gibbs and Tony supposed to … y’know?”

Abby’s face lit up. “Relax, Ziva. I left a bucket.” And with that, she sauntered from the room, leaving a stricken Ziva in her wake.

“We are so dead when Gibbs gets out of there,” Ziva whispered.

***

Gibbs blinked at the door, arm hovering for a long moment before lowering back to his side. "I'm going to kill them." His tone was bland and matter-of-fact. "Slowly. With a rusty spoon."

"I'd suggest the use of chopsticks, but I don't think those would help with the slowly part of it." Tony snickered, leaning back against a shelf. "Then again, at least you know they actually do know better."

"Chopsticks?" Gibbs asked, snatching the note from its resting place finally.

Tony shrugged. "Rusty spoons are cliché. Killing someone with chopsticks? That's good comedy." That’s right, Tony. Keep up the comedy so you don’t think about the fact that you’re trapped in a very small space with no way ou…

"Tell you what," Gibbs muttered, slitting open the envelope with sharp, jerky motions, "why don't I just use a plastic spork. Make it nice and messy while I'm at it."

"Well, I suppose you could use a really bad car accident to cover it up, but you'd have to make sure it exploded and I don't know how you'd get..." Tony trailed off as he watched Gibbs' lips move silently. "Boss?"

"What the hell’s UST?"

Tony snorted. "Unresolved sexual tension."

"Figures." Gibbs glanced around the room, tapping the half-folded paper against his fingertips. "Might as well get comfortable, looks like we're going to be here for a while."

"Sort of figured that one out myself, Boss." Tony swallowed down his still-growing sense of panic and tilted his head towards the note. Something to focus on. "Mind if I take a look?"

Gibbs held it out silently.

Tony gave Gibbs as much distance as he could in the cramped space (stop thinking about that, DiNozzo) and opened the folded paper. Abby’s writing, he thought, noting the loopy, gothic scrawl. Figures she’d be behind this.

_Dear Gibbs and Tony:_

_It’s time for you two to clear up the UST! Talk to each other! Tell each other how you really feel!!!!_

Tony shook his head. Abby had underlined “really” about 10 times and added several little black hearts at the end of the sentence. Not a surprise really. The next part was, though.

_And if things go really well –_ More underlining. _\-- there’s condoms and lube on the middle far right shelf._

Tony shifted his wide-eyed gaze to the shelf in question. Oh. My. God. She’d actually left condoms and lube. She actually expected the two of them to have sex in a cramped storage room.

“It wouldn’t be the worst place we’ve had sex.”

Tony snapped back around to face Gibbs.

“Wasn’t hard to tell where you were in the note,” Gibbs continued as he leant against the locked door and snapped his cell phone shut. “No signal.” He smirked at Tony’s open-mouthed stare. “Oh, it gets better. Keep reading.”

_Don’t bother trying to open the door. It’s sealed tight and there’s absolutely nothing in the room that will open the door. Knocking and banging’s no good, either. I’m gone for the night and Tim sent out an e-mail to maintenance from you, Gibbs, telling them to steer clear of the lab for the night. Special investigation and all that._

So McGeek was in on it. Revenge was going to be so sweet. If he didn’t lose his mind first, that is.

_Tim also helped me set up the jamming signal for your cell phones. So you can forget those, too._

Gibbs’ phone crashing against the far wall attested to the success of that portion of the plot. Tony gulped. Gibbs getting angry was really not helping him not panic.

_Oh! Ziva helped, too! She set up the trigger that locked the door when you got far enough in._

Un-freaking-believable. 

_So just have a seat (there’s blankets and pillows in the far left corner), have something to eat and drink (beneath the sex supplies!), and talk this out. Or more. I’ll unlock you at 0800._

_Trust me guys, you’ll be grateful when you finally admit your true feelings for one another. More freaking hearts. None of us will think any less of you. And we definitely will help keep it under wraps!_

_Love, Abby_

Tony carefully refolded the note and placed it next to the condoms and lube. “Boss?”

“Yeah, Tony.”

Tony plastered his patented smart-ass grin across his face. “I’d just like to say that I love you. I’ve always loved you. And when you get us the hell out of this, I’d be happy to fuck your brains out.” _Please, please, please, get me the fuck out of here._

“You don’t really think I’m in any mood to bottom after this, do you?”

"Well, no, actually," Tony said, cocking his head. "I kind of thought I'd need some time to recover first." Because nothing put Gibbs in a dominant mood like having his authority challenged.

"You'll be lucky if I don't tie you to my bed," Gibbs grumbled, voice gravelly with the edge of a fine rage.

Arousal shivered its way down Tony's spine, then turned cold as memories made his wrists itch. He took a deep breath, shaking his head, only to have it lodge in his throat. "Boss..." The word came rough and strangled, hissed through clenched teeth as Tony grappled at the shelves. His knuckles turned white with strain as he started to slide down the wall.

"Tony?"

Tony opened eyes he hadn't remembered closing to find Gibbs crouching next to him. Words wouldn't come, choked off by the fear constricting his chest.

"Tony!" Gibbs reached down, one hand at Tony's hip, one curled around his neck, and drew him forward, away from the wall. He didn't have a chance to brace himself before Tony was on him, sending them both sprawling on the floor, or at least as much as the cramped space would allow. "Tony..."

"The...the walls..." Tony whimpered into Gibbs' throat, unable to finish.

"Jesus." Panic attack, and they couldn't leave the room. "I'm going to kill them."

Tony dug his fingers into Gibbs’ sleeve, his breaths coming faster and more labored by the second. He had to get out. He had to escape. He had to …

“Tony!”

Callused hands framed Tony’s face, forcing his eyes to meet Gibbs’. Tony opened his mouth, but no sound issued forth. His eyes grew even wider.

“With me, Tony.” Gibbs drew in a slow, deep breath, held it for a minute, then slowly exhaled. “With me,” he again instructed.

Tony continued to gasp like a guppy on land. His lips began to turn blue.

“DiNozzo!”

Tears rolled down Tony’s cheek. 

_Swat!_

The sharp slap to the back of Tony’s head broke his breathing pattern. Callused fingers gripped his chin and refocused his gaze. He saw lips purse, heard an order to “breathe with me.” He knew that voice. That voice knew him. He trusted it. Trusted the person. He breathed in.

“Good, Tony. Good. Now breathe out, nice and slow.” Gibbs breathed his own sigh of relief as Tony let go of the breath. “And again.” He allowed a small smile as Tony obeyed, his breath stuttered, but steady. 

The world slowly came back into focus. He was breathing. Breathing was good. The arms around him? That was good, too. He blinked. “G-gibbs? Wha?”

“Shh…just keep breathing.” He ran his fingers through sweat-soaked spikes of hair. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Tony blinked again. What had happened? Why did he feel like thi…? His breathed hitched as memory struck.

Gibbs felt Tony tense in his arms. “Hey, hey, hey!,” he chastened with a quick shake. Tony’s eyes snapped to his, breath already becoming labored. “Stop it, DiNozzo.”

“C-can’t boss,” Tony gasped. “Pl-please. I need to get out. I can’t stay here. I can’t ….” His protest was silenced by Gibbs’ mouth on his own, his breath stolen by the tongue seeking entrance.

Gibbs’ broke the kiss, brushing his lips across Tony’s. He needed to give Tony something else to focus on and fast. Preferably something that would knock him out for a while. A quick visual recon of the “supplies” Abby left for them gave Gibbs a couple of options, but alcohol would take too long and have a nasty after effect. That left … Gibbs sighed. 

“Hush, Tony. I’m right here. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here.” His hand moved from Tony’s face to his belt. “Let me take care of you.” 

Glazed eyes tried to follow Gibbs’ hand, but he was cut off by another kiss, gentler this time.

“You just keep breathing.”

“Kay,” Tony whispered, his breath slowing.

Gibbs made short work of the buckle, button and zipper. “Lift,” he ordered with a tug on Tony’s pants, which soon rested above his knees, followed by his underwear. 

Tony whimpered as Gibbs eased him to the floor. “Just for a moment, Tony,” he heard Gibbs say. A moment later he was wrapped in Gibbs’ arms again, and a moment after that, a warm, slick hand wrapped itself around his dick. His eyes opened wider. “Gibbs….”

“Hush.” Warm fingers stroked and twisted down his length. “Just lie back and let me do the work.”

“Bossy,” Tony moaned.

Gibbs smirked. “Yeah, well… that’s because I’m the boss. You shut up and breathe.”

It didn’t take long. Tony was still too tense to last more than a few strokes and then he was coming all over Gibbs’ hand with a cry. After a few gasps, his breath evened out, his head lolling in the crook of Gibbs’ arm.

“You with me, Tony?”

A happy murmur was the only reply.

“Sleep, Tony,” Gibbs said, reaching for one of the towels. He’d use the sanitized towelettes Abby had left for them once he had Tony settled. “I’ll be right here.”

The combination of panic and pleasure dragged Tony quickly into slumber.

Gibbs knew it wouldn't last, taking the opportunity to clean up the mess and tuck Tony's back in his pants.

Tony smiled in his sleep at the touch, pressing closer, before stilling again.

They had an hour before Tony woke, if they were lucky. An hour Gibbs could use to try, however futilely, to think of a way out, or an hour to come with some way to keep Tony focused without a case, or alcohol, or sex. Gibbs had to work to keep his body from tensing up in anger, unwilling to cut that hour short.

For possibly the first time in his life, Gibbs wished his team weren't quite as good at what they did. Then again, if the team were as good as he'd hoped, they wouldn't have had to resort to locking the two of them in the closet.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony woke with a start after less than an hour, body calming beneath the hand Gibbs rested on his shoulder. "Boss?"

"Hmm?" The utter neutrality in Gibbs' voice betrayed him.

"We're not getting out, are we?" Tony asked in a small voice, knowing the answer.

"I don't think so." Gibbs tucked his chin to his chest, lips pressed together tightly. Then, "I'd have to leave you alone to look for a way out."

Tony shuddered, the thought of being left alone making him curl in on himself. His throat closed.

"Hey, hey, I'm not leaving you!"

A hand gripped the back of his neck, pulling him up and over, the other running down his side to push at his knees until he settled against a hard chest, forehead to Gibbs' shoulder. The familiar feeling of a slap to the back of his head made him gasp and gulp down air.

"Wake up, DiNozzo, I'm not leaving you alone and you know it."

"Boss."

"Tony."

Tony sighed into Gibbs' shirt, the cloth going hot against his lips. There was no way Gibbs was going to…

"Tony?"

"Fuck me."

"Tony…"

"You know it's the only way."

"I already…"

"You gave me a handjob."

"Well, yes."

Tony blinked, and risked raising his head. Gibbs's ears were pink. "Jethro, please." Whatever had embarrassed him wasn't enough to keep Tony safe from his own mind. "You know it's the only way to make me sleep through the night when..." He couldn't continue, ducking his head again and shivering with too many memories, of Kate's death, of the plague, of being chained to Jeffrey White…

"Stay with me."

Tony huddled closer, suddenly chilled. "Boss."

"We're in a storage closet at work, DiNozzo." But Gibbs knew he'd already lost the fight.

"It's not the worst place we've had sex."

The irony made Gibbs chuckle.

"You know you're going to give in, so just fuck me and get it over with."

"Get it over with?" Gibbs' fingers bit into the back of Tony's neck.

Tony gulped, hardly daring to meet Gibbs' gaze as he was dragged upright. "Boss? I was just, I…"

"Tony."

Tony shut his mouth.

"Making love to you is never a chore," Gibbs bit out. "Do you understand me?" Gibbs' eyes flashed with anger, and the need to prove it.

Tony didn't care, just nodded and reached up, moaning into Gibbs' mouth. Losing himself in the possessiveness of Gibbs' kiss, Tony was only dimly aware of being tilted backwards, one strong arm supporting him as he was lowered to the floor. There was a momentary hesitation, and then he found himself cushioned by a haphazardly spread blanket. "Boss..." His hands pulled at Gibbs' jacket, trying to burrow to skin.

"Hang on, Tony, I got you." Gibbs shed the jacket, then pulled his Henley and tee over his head.

Tony splayed his hands across Gibbs' belly as the tangled clothes were tossed out of the way. The heat of the skin against his fingers only drove home just how much he needed this, needed the distraction, and he let reluctantly let go to tug at his own jacket and tie.

"Let me," Gibbs murmured, leaning down to kiss Tony again, brushing his hands aside to get at knotted silk and tiny buttons.

"Anything." Anything that would let him forget where they were, that there were walls closing in on him. Anything like Gibbs' lips on his jaw, his throat, the sharp sting of teeth...he willingly lost himself in sensation, uncaring of his own voice as he whimpered and begged for more.

***

As much as he wanted to keep Tony's attention, Gibbs knew it was better this way. Better that Tony lay sprawled beneath him, all long limbs and pale skin, lost in his own pleasure. Gibbs couldn't resist cataloguing Tony's scars, pressing gentle lips to each only to have to pry uncoordinated fingers from his hair. "Easy, Tony, I got you."

"Please..." The word trailed off in a hiss, Tony opening his eyes to meet Gibbs'; they were glazed with passion, and something softer.

Something Gibbs rarely saw, and cherished when he did. He cursed inwardly at seeing it here, now, and shoved those dark emotions away. Tony couldn't afford them. "Tony?"

"Hmm..."

Gibbs smiled, amused and indulgent, as Tony arched, stretching all those lean muscles. His own hand slid down Tony's flank at the motion. "Lift up." He dragged one of the pillows from the bottom shelf and tucked it under Tony's ass, giving Tony's dick a single, too-light too-fast stroke as he did.

Tony whined.

"Yeah, I know, I know." One hand gripped Tony's thigh as he reached for a condom – and suppressed a disappointed shudder at the necessity – and the lube, thumb brushing the crease between leg and groin.¬

Fists knotted in the blanket, Tony raised his hips in blatant invitation. "Please."

"Relax, Tony, let me take care of you." Gibbs reluctantly let go just long enough to sheath himself, then slicked his fingers. A single digit met little resistance, and Gibbs added a second before curling them just so.

Tony moaned, pressing back and down.

"You want more?" Gibbs asked, his voice rough even to his own ears.

"All of you, give me, give..." Tony stretched one arm out, trying to pull Gibbs over him, onto him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he growled.

"Want it, want you. No walls."

"Who's being bossy now?" But Gibbs let his fingers slip out and reached down, positioning himself as Tony got a grip on his shoulder and dug his fingers into muscle.

"You liiiiike…" Tony's teeth snapped shut on the gasp as Gibbs thrust in. "…me that way. Mmmm." Tony wrapped one leg around Gibbs' waist, pushing himself up with the other foot. "Feels so good."

"Yeah, you do." That startled a laugh out of Tony, and Gibbs had to bite his lip, his fingers digging into Tony's hips as he felt Tony's body clench around him.

"You promisssed--"

The rest was lost in a drawn-out hiss as Gibbs began to move, each smooth thrust inching them across the floor on the inadequate bedding.

Gibbs reached out and braced one arm against the wall. He was trying to wear Tony out, after all, not knock him unconscious. A sharp, impatient whine caught his attention. Then again, maybe knocking Tony out was the way to go.

“Please,” Tony whined, scrabbling at Gibbs’ back in an effort to draw his body closer and deeper. “Plea…oh!”

Gibbs cut off Tony’s begging with a sharp thrust that clicked Tony’s jaw shut. He leaned closer and suckled behind Tony’s ear, his lips forming a seal on the tender skin. He thrust again, the corners of his mouth turning up at the pained gasp it elicited. He felt the blood rising to the surface as he sucked in time with his thrusts. 

Tony’s leg slipped from behind Gibbs’ back as his strength fled and he submitted to Gibbs. His hands slipped from Gibbs’ shoulders to rest on his forearms. His head lolled back, cushioned by Gibbs’ jacket. “Yes,” he begged silently. “Yours.”

“Mine,” Gibbs growled as he released Tony’s neck with a wet pop. He licked the forming bruise and began to thrust harder, driven by Tony’s submission. He bent down again, this time sealing his lips over Tony’s own. The arm that had been holding the wall at bay curled down and lifted Tony up and against his chest.

Tony’s eyes popped open as he was lifted and pushed back against the wall. He pulled his head back, but only managed a quick breath before Gibbs’ mouth was on his again. He tried to pull back again, but was sandwiched between Gibbs and the wall. And then he felt Gibbs’ other hand close around his dick, and the world went white.

The only sound in the storage room for several minutes after was the ragged breaths of the two men, one fast asleep, the other sated and smiling. 

And silently plotting revenge.

***

Abby bound from the elevator, pigtails flapping behind her as she flew down the hall to her lab. She’d barely slept and had finally given up trying at 5 a.m. Now, two and half hours and two Caff-Pows later, she was at the door of the storage room, key in hand, unable to wait a second longer.

“You’re in early, my dear.”

Abby knocked her head against the door and dropped the key with a cry of pain.

“Gracious, Abby. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Ducky said as he rushed forward to retrieve the key. “You’re rather jumpy this morning. Or rather, more jumpy than … Jethro?”

Abby’s eyes went wide. “Ducky!” She made a swipe at the key, but missed. “I’m OK, but what’re you doing down here?” She tried to use her momentum from the flubbed swipe to steer Ducky away. 

Ducky pulled from her grasp. “There’s no need to shout, Abby. I may be getting older, but my hearing’s just fine. Quite perfect, in fact.” He turned back toward the door. “Quite perfect enough that I know I heard … Jethro? Is that you?” He inserted the key. 

Abby’s face crumpled. “Duckyyyyy!”

The door swung open.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony whimpered and burrowed deeper into Gibbs’ arms. He’d slept most of the night, but awoke before anyone arrived to let them out. And Gibbs – unwilling to be caught _en media coitus_ – had refused to do more than try and distract Tony with kisses and cuddling.

“Time ‘zit?” he whispered.

“Five minutes later than the last time you asked, Tony. Try to relax. It won’t be long.”

Tony shivered and concentrated on keeping his breaths slow and deep. It was 0725 the last time he asked. Abby said she’d open the door at 0800. He could do this. He could do this. He could … not do this.

“Boss,” he cried. “I-can’t…” His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. And it was so cold. 

“Tony!”

Black spots danced in front of Tony’s eyes, blocking his view of Gibbs. He tried to swat at them, but was shaking too badly to manage it. And then he couldn’t see Gibbs at all. Or breathe. His scream couldn't escape, any more than he could.

“Tony! No!” Gibbs yelled, slapping Tony’s face. “Stay with me! Stay … Ducky?”

There. Outside the door. He’d know Ducky’s voice anywhere. And … Abby? He shouted their names – calm and controlled be damned. Tony needed out of here. Now.

The door swung open.

***

“Help me!”

Ducky only hesitated a moment before rushing to Tony’s side. He started to take Tony’s pulse but Gibbs’ short “get him out first” redirected him.

Outside, Abby felt her knees start to buckle.

“Get out.”

Gibbs and Ducky had Tony in the middle of the floor, Gibbs cradling Tony’s upper body, while Ducky tipped Tony’s head and felt for a pulse.

Abby staggered back, a hand coming to her mouth. Had she done this? Oh, god. Had she…?

“Get. Out.”

Abby looked up. Gibbs was looking right at her. At her. “G-gibbs….”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “Get. The fuck. Out. Now.”

Abby fled.

"Come on, DiNozzo, breathe, damnit...We're out, we're out of that damned closet and I'm going to kill Abby. Slowly. With a spork…." Gibbs stopped his angry, desperate litany as Tony gave a tremendous gasp, his body arching in the effort. "That's it, Tony, breathe, we're out. Stay with me."

"Boss." Tony reached up, hand trailing clumsily over Gibbs' shoulder, the angle awkward.

"Tony." Gibbs leaned down, feeling Tony's fingers dig into his back as he tried to hold on. "We're out. You're safe…."

"Jethro…."

"No. Out." Tony tilted his head back, jamming his face into Gibbs' chest as he tried to leverage himself to his feet, the effort panicked, weak and afraid.

"Okay, we can do that, just stay with me here..." One hand on Tony's arm, the other on his belt, Gibbs pulled, helping Tony sit up.

"Jethro, I really must…he stopped breathing…."

"I'm aware of that, Ducky, either help me get him outside or get the hell out of the way." Then he had Tony's arm over his shoulder, Tony leaning on him hard, shaking and refusing to open his eyes. "Can you walk?" The question was soft, Gibbs's lips brushing the curve of Tony's ear.

"Anything. Please…." Whatever else Tony was going to say was swallowed, hidden in the whimper Tony buried in Gibbs' neck as he got to his knees, clawing at Gibbs' torso for balance.

"I gotcha, Tony, come on." Then they were on their feet, Tony sagging against Gibbs and shivering. "Do I need to carry you?"

"No, no, just...don't want walls. No walls." Tony flinched at the feel of gentle fingers against his neck.

"Your pardon, Tony, I just need to… there," Ducky said, dropping his hand. "Your pulse is a bit fast, but I suppose that's to be expected."

"Can I get him out of here now?" Gibbs asked dryly.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll just go make sure the hall is clear."

"You do that," Gibbs said, but his attention was already back on Tony, still hiding against his shoulder. "Come on, Tony, let's go outside."

"Kay." Tony took more of his weight on his own two feet, but didn't lift his head.

"This way." Unwilling to trigger another panic attack so close to freedom, Gibbs half-dragged, half-led Tony out of the lab, down the hall and up the short set of stairs to the side door.

"Outside," Tony whispered reverently, raising his head and inhaling deeply.

"Yeah, Tony, outside." Gibbs took a deep breath himself, smelling fresh-mown grass and car exhaust, hot asphalt and the lingering stench of fear.

"Thank you thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou..." Tony's knees collapsed beneath him.

Gibbs stumbled under the sudden weight, and eased them both to the grass. "It's okay, we're out." He could feel tears hot against his shoulder.

"Jethro?"

"Yes, Ducky?"

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to get my bag and take a closer look," Ducky said, keeping his distance.

"As long as you do it out here," Gibbs answered.

"Not...going...back..." Tony whimpered, clinging.

"No, you're not. But I'd feel better knowing you aren't about to have a heart attack," Gibbs said.

"Stay out here?"

"Yeah, Tony, you can stay out here, and then Ducky will stay with you while I go kill the rest of the team." Gibbs sighed, as much to keep the rage from tensing his muscles as in relief.

"There's a box of sporks in my desk drawer."

Gibbs laughed despite himself. "Good to know."

***

McGee pulled into his parking space at exactly 7:35 a.m., 20 minutes earlier than usual, and nearly 3 hours after he woke – drench in cold sweat -- from nightmares of what Gibbs was going to do to him, Ziva and Abby. He was just unplugging his cell when a knock on his window nearly sent him through the roof of his car.

“Ziva!”

“You are jumpy this morning,” Ziva said, backing up just enough to let McGee unfold from the car. “And early.”

McGee’s car alarm chirped. “I’m not the only one. Worried?”

“No!” Ziva turned sharply and began walking … no, marching, McGee noted, toward the elevator. He jogged to catch up with her.

“You are nervous!”

“I am not nervous. I am …”

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Terrified?”

“No!”

“Ready to wet your ….”

The air rushed from his lungs as his back connected with the elevator door. “None of the above,” Ziva hissed. “I am merely… curious.” She let McGee go and pressed the call button. 10 times. With more force each time.

“The big, bad Mossad agent is scared,” McGee thought. “We are so fucked.”

 

***

Abby paced between the team’s desks, fingers entwined in pigtails, soft whimpered “no, no, no”’s on her lips. The elevator’s ding snapped her back to reality. The sound of McGee and Ziva’s voices had her running at Mach 3 toward them.

“Guuuuuuyyyyyyyyssssssssss!”

McGee had the breath knocked out of him for the second time in 5 minutes.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo…!”

“Abby. I can’t breathe,” McGee wheezed.

“Iwentearlyandduckywasthereandheheardsomethingand…”

Ziva’s eyes went wide.

“Tonywasn’tbreathingandgibbstoldmetogetoutand…”

McGee gripped Abby by the shoulders and shoved her back to arm’s length. “Tony wasn’t what?!”

“Breathing, McGee! He wasn’t breathing!!” Tears started rolling down Abby’s cheeks.

Ziva blanched.

“Is…is he breathing now?” McGee gave Abby a shake when she didn’t answer. “Abby! Is Tony breathing now?!”

Abby snuffled. “I-I don’t know. G-gibbs…Gibbs said…” She buried herself in McGee’s shoulder.

“What did Gibbs say, Abby?” Ziva grabbed Abby and pulled her back. “What. Did. Gibbs. Say?”

“H-he…he told me to get the fuck out,” Abby wailed.

McGee collapsed on the floor. Ziva started making mental notes of who could get her out of the country. Now.


	5. Chapter 5

"You three. Conference room. Now."

Abby, McGee and Ziva scrambled to obey, all but running to outpace Gibbs even with his route from the back staircase. Abby barely made it to the elevator in front of him, one hand over her mouth, the other scrubbing futilely at the teartracks staining her face.

Surprisingly, it was McGee who managed a shaky, "Is, is Tony--"

"What, you think I'd leave Tony alone if he were dead, McGee?" Gibbs asked with deadly calm once the doors shut. "You think I wouldn't have the three of you in lockup? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you up on charges. Because I can think of plenty, starting with attempted murder with special circumstances."

"With special circum..." Abby squeaked.

"Tony's claustrophobic. The first panic attack hit less than twenty minutes after we were locked in. By itself, it wouldn't have been a threat, but Tony's lungs are scarred, and you know that." Gibbs took a few shallow breaths before adding, "He spent all night being tortured."

McGee swallowed; Abby let out a choked sob, muffled behind the hands clapped over her mouth; Ziva muttered something in Hebrew that probably didn't need translation. The only comfort they had was that Gibbs didn't seem able to make eye contact any more than they could, but whether that was from anger or betrayal, they didn't know.

"I trusted you. I trusted you with Tony." The past tense made them flinch. "If you had a problem with the way we treat each other, you could have talked to me, or Tony, or Ducky, or even Vance, I don't care. Hell, locking us in made the point. But you didn't stop with just that. You blocked our cell phones. You told people to stay away from the lab. You systematically removed every possible way we could have gotten help, or free ourselves. That was criminal. You know this building isn't impregnible. If there'd been a fire, or an intruder, or, oh, hey, if one of us just so happened to be claustrophobic..."

"We didn't know. We were trying..." Ziva started, ran out of air and had to gasp for breath. "To protect you. And Tony."

"From what, or who? Vance? He knows. He doesn't give a damn. That's why Tony and I could relax, at least a little."

"Just how long have you and Tony..." McGee asked, confused and half-hearted.

"Since before Morrow left."

"Jenny." Ziva's eyes were flicking back and forth rapidly as she pieced together the pieces.

"Jenny." Gibbs nodded slightly. "If she'd had any idea, she would have split us up and Tony would have suffered for it. Vance, he doesn't care. I'll probably be retired before he leaves."

"Are, are you going to fire us?"

"McGee."

"Yes, boss." There was real fear in his voice, his body at attention and trembling.

"You haven't begun to grovel yet."

"No, boss."

There was a long silence then, everyone trying to control their breathing. Then Gibbs let out an enraged snarl and slammed his fist sideways into the wall. Everyone jumped. "This is what's going to happen." Gibbs took a deep breath and turned slightly, finally meeting their eyes. "I am going to take Tony home. You are going to go work cold cases unless Vance tells you otherwise. If he has something for you to do, you do it, no ifs ands or buts. I don't care if you have to scrub out the evidence locker with your toothbrush. If you try to resign, I will have you up on charges so fast your grandmother's head will spin. You run, I will hunt you down and spork you to death, nice and slow and messy, just like I promised Tony I would. You understand?"

"Spork us to...?" Ziva sounded bewildered.

"They're those plastic spoon-fork combos, you know, like the ones Tony keeps in his desk," Abby answered quietly, shoulders hunched.

"Yes, Abby, I know what--"

"You think this is a joke."

"No, no, not at all," Abby rushed to get the words out, "it's just that, I never really heard it used as a verb before, and it's a typically Tony method of killing, so, you know, it's sort of...poetic." She bit her lower lip hard, until a thin trickle of blood trailed down her chin. "Tony is okay, isn't he? I mean, he's not on his way to the hospital or anything?"

"I don't know, Abby. He's outside with Ducky, and he was breathing and coherent when I came back in. Physically he seems to be recovering."

"Physically."

Gibbs glared at Ziva. "What part of 'claustrophobic' and 'being tortured' didn't you understand? He was fine before, when he had a case to focus on. Now? I don't know. He'll be lucky to get back in the field."

"Can we see him? I mean," and McGee almost withered as Gibbs' glare was turned on him. "I'd like to, to apologize, and--"

"What kind of apology makes up for twelve hours of torture, McGee?"

"Gibbs. It wasn't intentional." Ziva's voice came sharp and desperate. "We're a team, what are we supposed to do, just let this go? You aren't, and Tony won't, and if we can't even talk to him, then--"

"I am taking Tony home to sleep. I'll probably wind up building a gazebo in the backyard because he can't stand having walls around him without hyperventilating. If and when he comes back to the office you can start your campaign, but you don't ever put his life in danger again, you hear me?"

A soft chorus of "Yes, boss" answered him before he disengaged the emergency stop.

"Then get to work."

~~~

“Hippopotamus.”

Ducky looked up from his watch and gripped Tony’s wrist a little harder. Hallucinations were not a good sign. “Tony …?”

Tony flopped an arm toward the cloud-dappled sky. “That cloud,” he said dreamily. “It looks like a hippopotamus.”

Ducky let out a breath. “Don’t scare me like that, Anthony.” And then, curiosity getting the better of him, he looked skyward. “Which cloud?”

“The one that looks like a hippo, Duck. That way,” he managed to keep his arm aloft this time, and directed his companion’s gaze.

Ducky squinted and smiled. It did look like a hippo, complete with toothy grin. “Did I ever tell you about the time mother and I went on safari? We encountered some hippopotami one night while crossing a river. Quite fearsome creatures, I must say. Mother, of course, wasn’t fazed for a moment. She ….”

~~~

"Gibbs! My office," Vance said as Gibbs left the elevator, voice just loud enough to carry over the normal early-morning noise of the office.

"Yes, sir."

Vance suppressed all sign of irritation at the flippant answer, just retreated behind his desk and waited for Gibbs to join him. "Close the door. I'd offer you a seat, but--"

"No, thank you." Gibbs' expression was blandly neutral, sure sign of impatience.

"How is he?" Vance asked once the door had swung shut.

"He who, Director?"

Now Vance allowed himself a small glare. "Don't play coy with me, Gibbs, you know who."

Gibbs' jaw clenched.

"Is Tony all right?" A kind of wary expectation filled the silence before he added, gently, "Physically speaking."

Some measure of tension left Gibbs' posture; not all of it, not even close, but enough to signal his understanding that this was unofficial. Off the record, and informal. Confidential. "Recovering. Ducky's with him." _As I should be,_ Leon could read in his eyes.

"What happened?" Leon watched as impotent anger and anguish thinned Jethro's lips. "Or would you rather have me guess?"

"They locked us in." It came out as a choked-off snarl.

Frozen, Leon watched as Jethro slowly prowled the open space in his office, saw the clenched fists raise tendons through thin white skin. "And Tony's claustrophobia?" The question was carefully spoken, and got only a jerky headshake in response. "Will he recover?"

"I don't--I..." Jethro swallowed hard, and swiped the back of one hand across his eyes; he couldn't seem to finish.

Leon sighed. If Tony wasn't able to return, if his mild claustrophobia had blown up into a crippling handicap, Jethro wouldn't stay. He knew that. They both did. "Have you thought about how you're going to get Tony home? I can't imagine confining him to a car is going to be easy at this point."

Jethro let out a strangled laugh. "Ducky's still giving him a physical, Leon."

"I'll take that as a no," Leon said with wry amusement and picked up a keyring from the desktop, tossing it to Jethro. "Here."

Jethro made a clumsy - for him - one handed catch, clutching the keys to his chest. "What's this?"

"Keys to a 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder convertible. I took the liberty of signing it out to you until further notice." 

"Wait. You knew--" Jethro's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Jethro, however much Tony goofs off and annoys the rest of NCIS, you and I both know he's one of the best agents here." That got him a snort. "He habitually sends me notice of any after-hours testing being done for your cases. I got the fake notice I'm guessing McGee sent, but since I was out of the office yesterday, I didn't read it until I got in this morning. Between that, the lack of Tony's usual note, the rest of your team in a panic, and you furious and in yesterday's clothes...I'm not here just because I play politics well."

"Leon."

Leon raised an eyebrow in askance. "Jethro?"

"I don't know what to say. Except...thank you." His voice sounded tight.

"Just protecting NCIS assets." Jethro snorted again. "What do you want to do about McGee, Ziva and Abby?"

"They're working cold cases. Unless you want to come up with some really...distasteful chores for them." Anger crept back into his voice. "Hold off on...anything else."

Leon smiled. "I think I can manage to find something...appropriate. Look, it's Wednesday. Given the situation and your recent caseload...Take the rest of the week. Call me Monday morning if he's still having problems."

"Will do. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Now get out of here - some of us have work to do."

Leon was treated to Jethro's laughter as he left the office. Strained, yes, but still.

~~~

Tony smiled as Ducky got lost in his story. This is nice. Cool air, soft grass, no walls. I could stay out here all day. Or forever. Forever would be good. Better if Gibbs were here. Speaking of whom …

“Ducky.”

“…guide was screaming and there was mother, rifle in hand while … yes Tony?”

“When is Gibbs coming back?”

“I’m sure he’ll be back as soon as possible, Tony. He won’t leave you alone any longer than he has to.”

Tony smiled. “Left me a sitter.” He watched as the hippo morphed into the Indian subcontinent.

Ducky looked fondly down at Tony. The younger man did look better – less ashen, his eyes more focused – but his thoughts were still somewhat erratic. He checked his watch.

“How long?”

“Just 15 minutes, Tony. Not long at all.”

Tony frowned. Why was he on the ground? Where was Gibbs?

“Tony?”

Tony’s breath sped up.

“Oh, dear. Tony, look at me.”

The Indian subcontinent blurred into a formless mass. Black dots danced in front of his eyes. Someone was calling him, but it wasn’t the person he wanted there. “Whr’s Gibbs?”

_Whap!_

Tony blinked. And sucked in a deep breath. The cloud turned back into India. “Ducky?”

Ducky let out a deep breath and took Tony’s wrist back up. “Thank goodness. You gave me a bit of scare for a moment.”

“Did you hit me?”

Ducky snorted and laid Tony’s wrist back down so that he could pry open an eyelid and check Tony’s pupil response. “It seems to work when Gibbs does it.”

Tony pouted. “I’m telling Gibbs on you.”

“Telling me what?”


	6. Chapter 6

Tony’s eyes popped open and drank in the sight of Gibbs blocking the Indian subcontinent. He grinned. “Ducky hit me. You should spork him, too.”

Gibbs snorted and dropped into a crouch. “Think I’ll give the man a reprieve, Tony.” He ghosted his fingers over Tony’s cheek, smiling as his lover pushed into the touch. “He start to panic?”

“Indeed,” Ducky responded as he repacked his stethoscope. “I trust you’ve made arrangements to get Anthony home safe and sound?”

Gibbs nodded and jangled the keys to the Spider. “Vance,” he said to Ducky’s inquiring glance.

“I don’t wanna see the director,” Tony whined.

“He doesn’t particularly want to see you, either,” Gibbs said, pulling Tony into a seated position. “In fact, he doesn’t want to see either of us until Monday at the earliest.” A nod at Ducky and the two men had Tony up, if somewhat unsteady.

“Boss ….”

“Not going inside, Tony.” He and Ducky moved toward the path that led to the front of the building.

Tony braced his knees, halting their march.

“Tony.”

Tony shook his head and dug in. His eyes squeezed shut.

“Tony.” Gentler this time. Callused fingertips rubbed against his nape.

“The car...I don't--” Tony whispered, the words trailing off as his breathing grew raspy again.

Gibbs moved close, his lips brushing Tony’s ear. “Vance took care of that.” A pause. “Baby, I promise. It’ll be OK.”

Tony sucked in a tiny breath, cursed the moisture that squeezed from his tightly-shut eyes. But Jethro promised. And he always kept his promises. Releasing the breath, Tony nodded his consent.

“Good boy,” Gibbs whispered, and they resumed their silent path to the front, where the promised Spider awaited them.

A few minutes later, Tony heard the creak of a car door. He started to tense, but Gibbs’ fingers were back on his nape, squeezing reassurance. “Sit, Tony.” And Tony obeyed. And continued to breath fresh air.

He cracked an eye, then sat up a little straighter. “Is this …?”

Ducky and Gibbs both chuckled. “Figures a car would snap you out of it,” Gibbs said, as he folded the driver’s side forward for Ducky. Once sure that both passengers were buckled in, he turned the ignition and put the car in first gear. Beside him, Tony’s eyes opened and drank in the clouds, the ashen pallor gone once more. “Scenic route, I’d say.”

Tony smiled. “Scenic route sounds great, Boss.”

***

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Vance leaned against the partition wall, waiting for an answer.

Abby jumped, nearly spinning herself off the corner of McGee's desk as she turned, clapping her hands over her mouth as a startled squeak escaped. Behind the desk, McGee swallowed hard, setting his pen down.

"Working cold cases, sir," Ziva said softly, indicating the short stack of folders on her desk.

"Yes, Gibbs told me. Except--"

"Sir?" Abby interrupted, unable to stop herself. "Is--is Tony all right? I mean, we haven't--"

"Miss Sciuto, you won't be working cases." Vance watched her wilt as he glared.

Abby blinked, color draining from her face.

"I assume you know where the cleaning supplies are?" Vance waited for her to nod emphatically, pigtails dancing. "Good. I want the forensic garage clean enough to be used as an operating room. Get to work."

McGee and Ziva both winced in sympathy as Abby slid dejectedly off the desk, watching as she disappeared behind the base of the stairs.

"As for you two..." Vance paused for effect. "While I'm well aware of Miss Sciuto's well-intentioned scheming, I expected better of you. It seems the only people on this team with common sense are Gibbs and Dinozzo. That's unacceptable."

McGee looked down at his desk. "Are we being fired, sir?"

"No."

"But you said--" Ziva started, confused.

"If this were my team, I'd have asked for your badges in a heartbeat. What you did wasn't just criminal. It was also incredibly stupid, and showed a marked insensitivity to your teammates' privacy and well-being. But this isn't my team." Vance let that sink in for a moment. "I don't want to lay eyes on you until Gibbs and Tony are back at work. That does not mean you're staying home," he added. "That means you, McGee, are spending your days in the gym training hand-to-hand, or on the firing range. As for you," and Vance sighed heavily. "You're spending your days in tech support, and I don't want a single complaint out of anyone, not you, not your coworkers, not your clients." He glared at Ziva until she slumped in her seat.

McGee fidgeted uncomfortably in the silence that followed, unable to make eye contact.

"Am I just talking to myself here? Get to work." Vance watched, gratified, as McGee and Ziva scrambled out of their seats, grabbing their belongings before all but bolting out of the office.

***

The scent of cherry blossom tickled at Tony’s nose as he settled deeper into the Spider’s soft leather seats. He hadn’t re-opened his eyes since they’d pulled from the Navy Yard, but curiosity tugged at him and he blinked into a vast expanse of blue and cotton, dotted by pale pink. They were on the parkway leading out of DC and into Virginia.

“Pretty,” he murmured, and relaxed further into the seat.

Gibbs’ white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel eased at Tony’s soft remark. He’d been driving for more than 30 minutes, waiting for his lover to respond. He’d been almost ready to pull over when Tony had broken the silence. Behind him, Gibbs heard Ducky’s echoing sigh of relief.

“Any place you’re jonesing to see?” Gibbs asked, going for casual.

A smile crept across Tony’s face. “Grand Canyon sounds good. Nice and open.”

Ducky chuckled in the rear. “Since you’re in such a jocular frame of mind, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I checked your heartrate, Tony.”

Tony arched his neck and peered at Ducky and nodded his consent. While the cool stethoscope slid down his shirt, he reached over and wrapped his fingers around Gibbs’ as they rested on the gearshift. Gibbs’ grip loosed a little more as a smile tugged at his lips.

“You want the Grand Canyon, I’ll get you to the Grand Canyon.” He looked over at Tony and entwined their fingers. “Might need to drop Ducky off first, though.”

“Yes,” Ducky agreed, withdrawing to the back seat again with a quick nod and smile to Gibbs. “Mother might be a bit cross if I failed to be home for dinner, but I think the Grand Canyon sounds just fine. I’m sure Director Vance would agree.”

Tony smiled at Gibbs and squeezed his hand before turning back to enjoy the open air and view. “Nah,” he finally said. “S’ok. I’m good here.”

“You sure?” Tony turned back to meet Gibbs’ eyes. He knew his lover would drop everything – including his NCIS career – in a heartbeat if he thought it was what he needed, and that alone was enough. “Yeah, I’m sure. But maybe a few more times around the block?”

“You got it.”

An hour later they dropped Ducky off at his home. The ME performed a final heart and blood pressure check and promised/threatened to drop in on the pair the following day. Then Gibbs picked random roads, following where they took the pair, until at twilight, as the air turned cool and Tony began to shiver, they found themselves in front of Gibbs’ house.

They sat in silence, both staring at the home with its walls and ceilings.

“I’ll get the camping gear out of the garage,” Gibbs said. He’d build a fire, lay down tarp and bundle them in all-weather sleeping bags. And tomorrow, he’d figure out a way to make his – their – bedroom glass-ceilinged. And then …

“Jethro.”

He looked over at Tony’s tired face. Tired, but resolute.

“You don’t have to …”

“Neither do you.”

Tony chewed on his lip and looked back toward the house. Then he looked back at Gibbs. “Your fence isn’t high enough.”

Gibbs’ brow creased. “What do you …?”

“And your backyard isn’t soundproof. And your neighbors are kind of nosy.”

Ah … oh.

Tony smirked. “I don’t think I’m ready for the tying me to the bed part, but fucking me into oblivion? I can get behind that. Or under it, as the case may be.”

Gibbs reached out and grasped Tony by the nape. Tony reached out at the same time, grabbing Gibbs’ jacket and their mouths met over the shift. It wasn’t much of a battle for control – Tony was too happy to succumb to Gibbs’ dominance, but it was he who pulled back first, breathless.

“Please,” he whispered. “Take me home.”

The climb out of the car was clumsy with haste, neither of them wanting to sacrifice physical contact. Laced fingers and shoulder bumps served to get them to the door, but once through, Tony froze, apprehension and fear bleeding back into his calm.

"Tony?"

"I--I'm..." Tony choked on the rest. Then he found himself backed up against the inside of the door, moaning helplessly into Gibbs' mouth. 

Gibbs kissed him purring and pliant, hands kneading gently at his henley, before drawing back. "Think you can make it to the bedroom?" he whispered, nuzzling at one ear.

Tony hummed noncommittally, angling for another kiss.

Gibbs chuckled softly, kissing his neck, his jaw, the pulse at the base of his throat. "Hold onto me," he whispered, feeling Tony's hands fist in the cloth over his chest before taking a tiny step backward. The short, interminable trip down the hall was lost in a tug-of-war on Gibbs' shirt, in dozens of butterfly kisses peppering Tony's face and neck. "Stairs, Tony," Gibbs whispered, sliding his cheek against Tony's and stepping up the first one, then the second, Tony following automatically, one step below.

The next few steps went smoothly despite the awkwardness of the stairs, but once past the halfway point, the walls of the upstairs hallway closed in around them, and Tony started shivering. Instead of drawing attention to it, Gibbs just stopped on the stairs, curling one hand tight around Tony's neck and kissed him into stillness, kissed him until the fog of arousal had quieted the tremors. "Come on, Tony," he whispered, pressing forehead to forehead, "can't fuck you on the stairs, remember?"

"Rugburn." Tony gulped in air before continuing. "In interesting places."

Gibbs gave him a small smile. "My knees."

"You kind of forgot something." Tony rubbed his nose against Gibbs', good memories helping push back the apprehension.

"And what's that."

A mischievous grin spread across Tony's lips. "You're between me and the bed."

Gibbs couldn't stop the laughter that came then, low and gravelly, shaking his shoulders; he slid down the rail to sit awkwardly on the stair as Tony pushed past him, stopping two steps up to stare down at him, nudging him repeatedly in the back with one knee as he laughed until his cheeks were shiny and striped. The arms that came around his shoulders, the faintly stubble-rasped cheek pressed into his neck only served to further loosen the knot of impending dread that had taken up residence in his gut. "Tony." The name was breathless, nothing hiding the affection and love and utter relief in Gibbs' tone.

"Tell you a secret?"

"And what's that?" Gibbs craned his head, rubbing against Tony cat-like to nibble at his ear, content. He could feel the smile that stretched Tony's mouth wide against his skin.

"I'm willing to put up with the rugburn." Secret, maybe, but there was none of the urgency that had been there before, none of the fear.

That would come back, that was a given. But they'd be all right, they had other weapons now. Tony'd be all right.

Gibbs didn't give an answer, just turned partway in his lover's arms and buried his face against Tony's chest, holding on.


End file.
